The ride was a quiet one. The girls had their hands tied together with rawhide. A couple had been gagged. 'Talking too much,' Helga thought to herself. She looked for Ronda. She looked terrified as the man she was riding with whispered in her ear. Helga didn't blame him. He looked mad. She saw Gloria with some tall, lanky man with a big nose. Helga made a face. Then she saw Sheena, quietly chatting with a smallish redheaded man. He spoke their language? He was smiling at what she was saying and nodding. Maybe he didn't but was being polite? She sighed and adjusted herself. This was so uncomfortable. Helga had ridden before, but not for such long stretches of time and with someone else. She was getting tired too, having not slept that much. She was partly relieved when she saw that the men were started putting up tents. Her relief was short lived however when she was taken off the horse and tied to a tree like one. She growled at the blonde man who just smiled at her sardonically and went to get his tent up.
She sat down on the ground, watching him work. He had the tent up in no time, then came back and untied her, leading her into it. Going to the centre he tied her to some weird horseshoe shaped stake, then started to unlace her dress. She turned red. They hadn't been allowed to stop and relieve themselves. She was pretty sure she had peed herself. Thankfully she hadn't poo'd, but her aching stomach told her she needed too. She pulled away from him when her dress fell to the floor. He then proceeded to continue undressing her until she stood in only her loincloth and a breast band. She shivered; it was still cold, for all it was spring. Especially inside a tent. She felt embarrassed, being so naked in front of a man.
She never had been before. She was meant to marry the son of a Chief in the next village, but she doubted that would happen now. She felt him trail his surprisingly warm fingers over her skin. She tensed up, remembering the words spoken by one of the girls she hadn't seen in the dark.
He said something to her that she couldn't understand, then she felt his lips on her shoulder. Oh Gods, he was! She blinked back the tears threatening to spill over. She refused to cry in front of him. She heard him sigh and move away, mumbling to himself. He came back, handing her clothing to her and said something, then turned around. A moment later he untied her, keeping his eyes on the ground. She hurriedly dressed, before he might change his mind.
"I'm dressed," she said. He looked up at her, and nodded, obviously guessing at what she had said. He motioned for her to undo his armor. She gave him a look to say "What am I, you slave?"
He said something to her in a tired voice. She twisted her mouth and took pity on him. Moving forward she undid the buckles on his metal breastplate. Underneath he was wearing his leather. He turned for her as she continued to remove it. She looked up at him, then away, remembering his lips on her shoulder, his fingertips on her skin. She bit her lip.
Often the men in the clan had made jokes about these men, how they preferred sleeping with each other rather than the woman.
"If they didn't need women to breed, they wouldn't bother at all!" her father had said once. She had smiled along with the other woman. The men had all had a good laugh and continued to make jokes at these men's expense. Though nothing much was ever said about the Empire, as it was known. Except that it was brutal and taking over the world. Or so they said. Helga blinked back tears. Her village, her whole world, it was gone. She looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath. She thought of her sister, her mother and her father. Right now he would be out with the other men, drinking and joking. Olga and Mother would be getting food prepared for the next days meal, while Helga would no doubt be mending any clothing needing it. She was often ignored, but she had no problem with that. It meant she had more freedom than the other girls. Then they would set out their offerings to the Gods, then go to bed.
Tears started to slip from her eyes, and she let out a sob. She thought she was silent, but she felt a thumb wipe the tear off her face, she turned, surprised, to see the man, Arnold she remembered, staring at her with sad green eyes.
"Sorry."
She understood that word. It was nearly international. She just nodded, then looked back up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, praying for sleep.
…..
…..
"Did you break her in, boy?" one of the men asked, laughing. Arnold ignored them. No, he hadn't. But he had considered it. Her skin was surprisingly soft and smooth, though he noted the palms of her hands were rough and calloused.
He put her up on the horse, then climbed on after her. He had had her dress him, and put his armor on. One more day and they would be at the fort. One more day.
'And then she will be shipped off to the slave markets,' his mind told him. 'What will become of her do you think?' He shook his head and frowned. He still didn't even know her name, yet she knew his, surely. Enough people had used it.
He saw her staring at the raven haired girl, who was staring into space. He didn't need to wonder why. Thaddeus was known to be slightly mad. He came from a tribe who claimed war demons would take over them. Arnold would believe it, having seen him in battle. He didn't want to think of how he had treated the girl with him. Speaking of . . .
"Arnold," he said, pointing at himself. The blonde haired, blue eyed girl looked at him and nodded. "You?"
She pointed at herself, and he nodded.
"Helga," she said in a thick accent.
"Helga?" he repeated. She nodded. He smiled. "Nice to meet you."
She said nothing, just turned away to face forward. He sighed. She looked to be pretty, and he was eager to see how she cleaned up, hair nice, clean clothes. He smiled into her hair, which had the smell of straw. He chuckled. Why was he feeling so giddy? Had being on the campaign as long as he had finally cracked his brain? Would he go as mad as Thaddeus? Reaching around her, his arms slid along the side of her breasts. He wanted to touch them, squeeze them, take them in his mouth . . .
But before that he wanted her bathed. Completely clean body. Clean hair, clean clothes. Maybe some nice fragrance. He looked at her. What would suit her? Carnation? Yes, possibly. She looked back at him, frowning. He smiled at her, already deciding how she would have her hair, what colour clothing she would wear, her make up, her jewellery . . .
'Don't get carried away with your dreams, you fool!' his brain was screaming at him. 'She's destined for the slave market, and your destined to go home, marry an already sweet, clean and obedient young woman, and have children!'
"Fluff brained woman, fluff brained kids, except of course for the boys, who will be trained for battle and war," he murmured. Helga looked at him again, raising a brow. "I'm not mad, just talking to myself."
She shifted as if uncomfortable, and wanting to move away from him, but not being able to. Instead he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close to him. He ran his hand up her torso, to her breast, and leaned forward and nipped her ear. He felt her tense. He smiled.
Maybe he should take her. It's not like he would get in trouble. She was probably going to be brought and used for just that purpose . . .
His grip tightened on his reign. As if sensing his change she turned and looked at him with a bit of alarm. He smiled at her again. She gave him a weak one back then turned away again.
Victory!
He had gained a smiled from her.
..
..
'He's a mad man! I knew it!' she was screaming at herself. 'I'm stuck on a horse, with an armed man, who is mad!'
She tried to keep her eyes forward, but was becoming distracted by something hard stabbing into her lower back. 'His belt must be loose or something,' she thought, putting her hand behind her to move whatever it was. He chuckled, she went red and pulled her hand back. That wasn't a belt buckle or anything else. That was him! She looked at her hand, shocked. What. Had. She. Just. Touched!?
He asked her a question and she turned and stared at him. He was obviously amused by what he saw and laughed again. She tried to glare at him, then looked away, feeling thoroughly embarrassed and violated. Her hand had touched his . . . Ugh, she couldn't even think about it.
"I thought they only got hard for other men, Father," she said looking up at the sky. "This one doesn't."
She was no stranger to what a man and woman did together. Their hut was the biggest, but only woven blankets separated them. She had heard her parents, had seen her sister once, and of course Gloria. A few of the girls had followed her once and watched her with one of the older boys. Though disgusted, there was still a curiosity about it all. Gloria appeared to enjoy it. She heard her parents enjoy it. And her sister, too.
Thinking of it made her tingly, so she pushed it from her mind. Though with him right behind her, she was very aware of what was going on in his mind. She bit her lip. Would he have his way with her tonight? And then what?
When they stopped for midday meal she slid off the horse and into his waiting arms. She smiled and him and nodded, then heard a commotion. She turned to see Ronda make a break for it, into the woods.
"Ronda!" Helga called out. The next thing she saw was an arrow hit the girl in the leg. She fell to the ground with a scream.
Helga went to run towards her, but Arnold held her back, and turned her away.
"No," he was saying, over and over. "No, no. You'll die."
Helga tried to look to see what was happening.
"Kill me, kill me please!" she heard Ronda yelling. "Please, kill me! don't place me with him again! Please! I would rather die!"
Helga bit her lip and looked to see Sheena white as a ghost and swaying. She never did do well with blood. She was often teased by the other woman for fainting while preparing meals which involved meat and blood. She saw Arnold's friend, Gerald, shaking his head and talking to Arnold, who nodded in agreement with whatever was said.
She looked at the ground.
What had happened to her to make her rather die than live.
She looked up at Arnold, who was watching the scene unfold with a tense jaw, and grim stare.
And would it happen to her?
